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Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back.
“I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.”
He moves straight to the hypersensitive spot at the side of my neck like my body is a map only he has the key to, and I spear my fingers into his hair as my back arches. Damn, he knows exactly how to take me from the ground to sky-fucking-high in less than a handful of heartbeats.
I fumble the conduit and nearly drop it. Xaden and I are the first of our signets to live simultaneously since the Great War? Heads turn my way, and one by one, every weapon lowers. “You do your dragons—and gryphons—proud.”
“With that speech? At least a duchess.” Xaden shifts his weight, brushing his elbow against my shoulder.
He takes a deep breath. “He gave me back my title and the seat in the Senarium.” Holy shit. My lips part. “Not just Aretia, either…he gave me Tyrrendor,” Xaden says slowly, like he can’t believe it, either. And he doesn’t want it. My chest clenches. “Xaden—” “Don’t wait up.” He presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist, then strides toward Garrick. “I’ll be back by eight a.m. to sign that accord,” he calls back over his shoulder. “Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” “Be careful.” He’s the Duke of Tyrrendor. This is so much bigger than how I feel about him now. There’s an entire province
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You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away. —Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail
“Violet,” he groans against my mouth, and I fucking liquefy.
“I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.”
“No.” His scarred eyebrow rises as he slowly walks back to me. “You forget that I know your body as well as my own, Vi.” His thumb ghosts across my lips. “Your mouth is swollen, your face is flushed, and your eyes…” He skims his tongue over his lower lip. “They’re all hazy and leaning more toward green than blue. Your pulse is racing, and the way you keep shifting your weight tells me that if I were to strip these pants off you right now, I’d find you more than ready for me.”
“It was recorded that when the last irid hatches and bonds the cadet born of rider and scribe, she’ll be gifted with two signets.”
“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”
“Because you’re the only one capable of killing me.”
“I’m jealous of the armor that holds you when I can’t, the sheets on your bed that caress your skin every night, and the blades that feel your hands.
“Just wanted to clear that up,” Xaden interrupts, then lifts me into his arms. “We’ll see you once we’re rested.” He takes off past Tecarus, striding down the hall. “What are you doing?” I hiss. “Doubling up as ordered,” Xaden says, throwing open the doors to his room and then kicking them shut once we’re through.
“I’m done sleeping in a bed that doesn’t have you in it.” His thumb strokes along my pulse.
“There’s no magic here,” he says again, lowering his head, ghosting his lips over mine. “I can fuck you as many times as we want, as many times as you can take, and I can’t lose control.”
“I get to do my favorite thing in the world, which happens to be fucking you. Now, I have about six weeks to make up for, and love, we’re wasting time.”
his tongue working in rhythm to play my body like an instrument created just for him.
“None. I will be with you all the way, Silver One.”
“My loyalty is to Violet first above everything, everyone else,” Xaden says.
The flier scoffs. “I don’t do second-years.” “Good thing I fuck like a third.” Ridoc grins. “Plus, I’m on quest squad, which gives me an additional boost of desirability.”
Every single one of them has silver hair. Not gray. Not white.
“I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”
“There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”
“My human,”
“And you”—the male lowers his gaze to Andarna—“our very hope, have handed this human something far more dangerous to wield, haven’t you?”
??
“You preach peace while only having known its privilege,” Andarna hisses in retort. “You are all a disappointment to me.”
“Queen Maraya is dead.”
WHAT?!
I think I started falling for you that night in the tree when I watched you with the marked ones, but I began tumbling the day you gave me Tairn’s saddle. You’ll give some self-serving excuse, but the truth is you’re kinder than you want people to know. Maybe kinder than you know. —Recovered Correspondence of Cadet Violet Sorrengail to His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor
Or I can always join you in the Assembly chamber. You do some of your best work on that throne.
“You have to accept what I already have,” Xaden says to me. “The man you love no longer fully belongs to himself.”
bro no stop
Whatever he wants, whatever he needs, it’s his. I’m his.
“My control when it comes to you is an illusion. You are the temple where I worship. I live for the clench of your thighs, your breathy little cries, the feel of you coming around my cock, and above all else, the sound of my favorite three words from this mouth.” His thumb skims my lips before he cradles the back of my head and looks into my eyes. “Keeping my hands off you has been the feat of my life, and you have the power to shred my discipline with a single fucking touch.”
“Grab hold, love.” Before I can ask where, shadows tug my hands to the top of the upholstered chairback and hold them there. “What are you—” “Worshipping.” He lifts my ass and brings my hips straight to his mouth.
“You are every fantasy I’ll ever have.”
“I’ve got you,” he promises, his voice hoarse. “My power, my body, my soul—it’s all yours.”
